


One Morning

by mywordsflyup



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Suicide mention, otherwise just fluff, ptsd mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan wakes up next to Cullen but something is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Deals with Cullen's PTSD. Vague suicide mention.

When she woke up she could feel Cullen lying behind her and her breath caught in her throat. His hand rested on the small dip where her legs met her hips. She could feel his finger through the thin fabric of her blanket, just the lightest touch but she could hardly concentrate on anything else. It was unusual enough that she was awake before he was but even in on these rare mornings, she usually found him on the other side of the bed – always careful to leave enough space between himself and her. She had never woken up to find him this close. She knew not to take it personally, as much as she wanted to snuggle up to him every night. His own nightmares scared him but he was even more terrified of hurting her. Of lashing out. Of not recognizing her when he woke up screaming. He did not talk about it but she knew that was why he untangled himself from her every night just before falling asleep. On some nights he left her bed entirely, retreating back to the drafty room above his office.

She had known people like him. She recognized his behavior from older warriors of her clan. Always scared of hurting those they loved, they isolated themselves. Slept on the other side of the camp so nobody would hear their muffled screams when the nightmares came to haunt them. Like old Efaniel. “There is nothing more cruel in this world than man, Da'len,” he had said before leaving for his last hunt, never to return. The scars marking his skin had been nothing compared to the wounds he carried inside. She had almost forgotten that look of resignation in Efaniel's eyes until she recognized it in Cullen, during that last battle in Haven. He had not just been prepared to die that night. He had been willing. She still saw it in his face on days when things got really bad and it scared her every time.

But now, for the first time, he lay close enough to touch her. Careful not wake him, she rolled over to face him. He shifted slightly at her movement, his hand wandering up to her waist. She saw now that he was even closer then she had thought, his face just inches from hers. He looked peaceful. No nightmares this time. The closeness filled her with such warmth, she could hardly refrain herself from kissing him, but she would not be the one to disturb his sleep. He did not get enough of it as it was. So she just watched him instead. She never got the chance to look at him this closely.

His face was all sharp angles and dark circles and hollow cheeks, especially after busy days when he forgot to eat or sleep. She could see him grinding his teeth even when he was asleep. The muscles of his jaw always tense. She wondered if anyone else saw the kindness underneath, the softness behind those hard features. It was even more obvious now with his hair a curly mess and without the usual frown between his eyebrows. Her eyes flicked to his slightly parted lips, the scar that she loved to kiss and that made his smile so delightfully crooked. She smiled at the memory, the warmth inside her spreading.

As if he had heard her thoughts, he started stirring and stretching his legs. She could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized that his hand was touching her. Waiting for his reaction, she hardly dared to breathe. He froze in his movements, every muscle in his body suddenly tense. His eyes flew open. For a second she thought that he would pull away immediately but he stayed still. Bright eyes looking directly into hers. She searched his face. He looked surprised but not particularly alarmed.

“It this alright?” she asked, fully prepared to pull back at the slightest sign of discomfort. But he sighed, like a breath he had been holding far too long. Tension left his body as he pulled her closer. She could feel his hand on her back, drawing lazy circles through the fabric of her nightshirt. Slowly he leaned in and kissed her.

“Better than alright,” he murmured against her lips and she smiled. At least for now, for one morning, everything was good.

 


End file.
